Emily didn't dare look at him again.
She stared at the wall instead, pressing her palms to her warm cheeks, willing herself to calm down.
*It's fine. Kellan doesn't know anything. He can't know anything.*
She snuck one more glance at him anyway.
Her face burned hotter.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
*Stop it, Emily.*
She splashed cold water on her face in the bathroom until her skin prickled, then stood gripping the edge of the sink until the heat faded.
Better.
She was drying her hands when her phone rang.
Unknown number—but she recognized the prefix immediately. The hospital.
"Hello?"
"Emily? You need to come now. Your mother—she's on the rooftop."
The words hit her like a fist.
She didn't wait for anything else. She ran.
---
Roland was already pulling up to the hospital entrance by the time she arrived, breathless.
She looked up.
A slight figure stood at the edge of the roof, hospital gown whipping in the wind.
Emily's throat closed.
"Mom—"
She was already running for the stairwell.
---
By the time she reached the rooftop, staff had gathered at a distance, none of them willing to move. Her mother stood with her back to the door, shoulders so thin the hospital gown hung off them like a sail.
Emily's chest cracked open.
She walked.
Not toward her mother—around the perimeter, slow and steady, until she had crossed to the other side of the roof. She climbed up onto the ledge and sat down.
Same height. Same position. Same view.
The staff went pale.
Emily didn't look at them.
"Mom," she said softly.
Her mother turned.
The moment she saw Emily sitting on the ledge beside her, all the color drained from her face.
"Emily, get down! Get down right now!"
"Why do you want to leave me?" Emily's voice was quiet, but it shook. "Are you giving up on me too? If you go, can I come with you? I don't want to be alone."
"I'm not going anywhere!" Her mother lurched toward her, grabbing for her hand. "Get down—please, get down, don't you dare move—"
The staff surged forward and caught her mother. Emily slid off the ledge on her own, and Roland was there in an instant, pulling her back by the arm with a grip that left no room for argument.
For a moment the four of them stood tangled together on a rooftop in the morning light, half-crying and half-shouting, until gradually the noise softened into ragged breathing and then into silence.
---
Half an hour later, the ward was still.
Emily had apologized to the staff, signed what needed to be signed, and thanked everyone individually before walking back through the door with a calm face and a steady smile.
Her mother sat on the edge of the bed, watching her.
The tears started again.
Emily crossed the room and wrapped her arms around her.
"Mom. Stop. You're going to make me cry too, and I just fixed my face."
"It's all my fault." Her mother gripped her tightly. "All of it. That woman Victoria came here—she said terrible things—I didn't know you'd gone to beg Richard. You should never have had to do that. I would rather die than watch you kneel to that man."
"I didn't kneel."
"Emily—"
"I didn't," Emily said firmly. "And I never would. I just asked. There's a difference."
Her mother pulled back to look at her.
"And this marriage—a vegetative man—you did all of this for me. How can I accept that?"
Emily sat beside her and took both her hands.
"Mom. Listen to me. The Scott family treats me well. Better than I expected. I have my own space, my own freedom—nothing has really changed."
"But Kellan—"
"Honestly?" Emily tilted her head with a faint smile. "Men are unpredictable. They're complicated and they cause problems. At least with Kellan, I always know exactly where he is and exactly what he's doing."
Her mother stared at her.
"That's not funny."
"It's a little funny."
"Emily!"
"Mom." Emily squeezed her hands. "There's a saying that a man is only reliable when he's hanging on the wall. Kellan is horizontal. That's even better."
Her mother let out a sound that was half sob, half laugh, and covered her face with her hands.
Emily leaned her head against her shoulder.
"Mrs. Scott is arranging your surgery. A proper hospital, a proper team, a donor—everything. You just have to get well. That's your only job."
Her mother was quiet for a long moment.
"What kind of family are they?"
"Good ones," Emily said simply. "They're based in New York. Kellan is here in the care facility for now, but the family is there. Mrs. Scott is… strict. But she's fair. She keeps her word."
Her mother leaned back slowly.
"I won't do anything like that again," she said at last, very quietly. "I promise."
Emily nodded and said nothing.
She stayed until her mother fell asleep.
---
Back at the care facility, Dr. Bennett was finishing his breakfast when he walked into Kellan's room.
He set down his coffee, pulled up the overnight data, and studied it for a long moment.
Then he sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
The readings from this morning were even stronger than the night before.
He looked at Kellan—still, pale, breathing—and then at the empty space on the other side of the bed where the sheets had clearly been slept in.
Dr. Bennett picked up his coffee again and took a long, thoughtful sip.
*Well,* he thought.
*At this rate, we won't be waiting much longer.*